The Bench
by LivelyMelody14
Summary: She grips the holes in the bench, knuckles numb with overwhelming thoughts. The road in front of her hums softly, then louder, louder until a car's headlights blinding reality are there then gone in a flash. She watches with unblinking piercing red eyes from crying. She doesn't move an inch, just grips the bench tighter, stronger, harder. Seddie comfort with a splash of romance!


The Bench

The cool night air wisps at her fraying jeans, the broken zipper on her sweatshirt flutters slightly. The howls of the broken souls lost in themselves faintly screech uncomfortably in the background. Her skin itches, she feels dirty, grimy, wrong. She grips the holes in the bench, knuckles numb with overwhelming thoughts. Nights like these she usually would have enjoyed, the serenity made her feel invincible; but tonight the calmness had an eerie sort of feeling that just made her feel invisible. The road in front of her hums softly, then louder, louder until a car's headlights blinding reality are there then gone in a flash. She watches with unblinking piercing red eyes from crying. No one seems to notice her; no one looks at the un-appearingly broken girl as they drive by. They don't see her shattered spirit and her hopeless, hopeless, hopeless masked display. The time don't fly, it stays still and frozen in agonizing pain. The wind picks up and stings her cuts, her forearm is a twisted work of art, a painful reminder of the monsters that tear her up inside. The bruises in her mind will never heal. Never ever be the same. The light gusts of air whisper her thoughts and sing her fears. Antagonizing her, and tearing her down, bitterly sweeping through her head. Won't go away, the thoughts won't go away.

"Hey," Says a voice not the wind this time. He sits cautiously at the far end of the bench. He's warm, and crisp, and clean. Pleated pants and zipped up jacket. Opposites, they're polar opposites. She doesn't answer back. He knew she wouldn't, but he doesn't know why. He doesn't know the extent of her misery. She hides it well. He's known her for long enough that it might not be too risky to move closer to her. She doesn't move an inch, just grips the bench tighter, stronger, harder. If he asks her what's wrong, all he'd get is more silence.

"I'll sit here until you talk to me." He says in defiance. The pure desire to make him go away is what'll make her talk. He's not built to withstand the cold, to face the blizzard weather. But he does know how to play her weaknesses as his strengths. He knows her sickeningly well because of it. She despises that he gets in her head and stays there day after day, hour after hour. He's the only one that can guess her game and predict her next move just by looking at her. She breathes out puffs of smoke into fresh midnight air. They sit and stay in absolute silence for hours it seems as the moon travels across the sky. But it doesn't matter how cold he is cuz he'll sit out there all night if he has to, worrying his mom to no end. The world stops when she utters one word.

"Done." Her voice cracks and shatters in the air cutting through hours of thick unused words. He breaks his focus on his blue-green, frost-bit hands to look at her. For the first time he sees the pain and fear she shelters from him. He's shocked, caught off guard. He doesn't know this girl; he can't play her to his advantage. He's entered a whole new playing field that will take determination and patience to sort out. To make her talk is going to take more than a threat to be by her side forever, something that could have scared her to this bench. One of the many contributing factors to the jumbled up mess that she knows, feels, thinks she is. The night time skyline turns to daylight sunrise and they sat there all night. Almost unbelievably still alive, like an unspoken protest they refuse to go inside to warmth and hot coco. _"'Done? what is that supposed to mean?" _he thinks. He wracks his brain for any sort of answer. Done with him, fine… done with life… What is it that made her sit her all night?

"What do you mean by 'done'?" he questioned.

She stays still, eyes frosted over from not blinking for hours. He wonders if she's frozen solid or dead. _"What will make her talk?" _he thinks_._ He wonders if her hands are stuck to the bench. She wonders why he's still here. She's getting tired of being silent. But she's also scared to death of the real world, of the boy sitting next to her and she's a bit curious as to what lengths he would go to, to get her to leave this bench and finally speak the unspoken scared words. _"Done"? _she didn't even know what she meant, just had to say something.

"I'm scared." She whispered. He sighed in relief, a sign she was still alive. He looked at her with concern in his beautiful eyes and grabbed her cold hand gently. She didn't pull away, didn't look at him either. He catches a glimpse of her forearm when the wind blows up her sleeve. He pushes her sleeve up to reveal scars near the top turning to bruises into fresh cuts at the bottom. He doesn't ask how it happened; he already knows she did this to herself. She doesn't care how long he stares at it, doesn't care about anything anymore. Her short life has been a quick downward spiral since the beginning

"I know." He replied. And he did, she could tell he cared and wanted so badly to trust him but she didn't know how and the not so little annoying voice in her head was screaming at her that he was getting too close, that this was much too dangerous.

"You can trust me," he assured, "We've been sitting out here all night, come on let's go inside." He pleaded.

"I can't." She admitted. Arms stretched over her body like a safety blanket, protecting her from the cold and the thoughts still swirling around her. He looks tired and sick of her games but refuses to give up on her, he won't give up on her like everybody else in her life has and that's just what she's waiting for that reigning moment when he realizes he's wasting his time and finally cedes defeat.

"Sam, help me! I'm trying to understand!" He exclaimed. He's frustrated, cold and hungry. People walk by for the millionth time wondering how long those two are going to sit there. They don't know the situation not even half of it. Are they homeless? Are they hopeless? No one stops for too long not wanting to linger but also eager to eavesdrop while they can. No one dares to occupy the vacant half of the bench, sensing the hostile tension in the air. The little grocery store they idle in front of doesn't ask them to get lost. How do they know the gravity of the situation? Freddie feels like he's in a fishbowl as everyone on the outside stares and glares but doesn't dare tap the glass, afraid of disrupting the volcanic eruption that the earth shaking rumbling is signifying. Sam doesn't seem to notice the people and she's been sitting her longer than he has. Something big is about to go down and no bystander wants to be around when it does. Scared it will affect them somehow, a domino effect, in this case whoever is the odd man out is the lucky one. Everyone only cares about themselves.

"That's just it Freddie! I'm hopeless!" She yells on the verge of breaking down right in the middle of the fishbowl. Finally showing some real emotion, maybe he's getting somewhere but don't pat yourself on the back just yet. They're not around the mountain, still she has the guts to look him in the eye and the red rings around her dilated pupils reveal her weakness.

"That's not true!" he exclaimed bursting from his seat on the bench and standing up in front of her towering over her, creating a cold shadow looming ten feet high. She looked down at her hands and shook her head as if not knowing how to make him understand.

"Sam," he sighed more gently, "look at me." he continued. When she didn't look up he sat back down and becoming more daring placed his arm around her and linked his fingers through hers. All he wanted was to make any sort of physical contact as if touching her could heal her deeper than the ocean craters of misery. She stared at him confused and realized he did it to make her look at him and it worked.

"You're not hopeless," he began, "what is making you say these things?" He looks like a lost puppy who just wants to know why he's so much smaller than everyone else.

"But I am hopeless! Everyone thinks so, my mom thinks I'm a piece of trash and isn't home half the time. The teachers at school have given up. They're all scared of me. And I know what you're thinking 'what about Carly?' I know she cares and she's my best friend but next year she'll be gone to college and I'll be here wasting my days pitying myself while I work ten hour shifts waitressing and barely making it by. My mom already kicked me out for not being a good enough daughter, what else am I supposed to do?" She ended her rant, panting slightly and looking a little less lifeless. She finally told someone everything on her mind, all of her hurt. The pain that has been building up inside her for so many years, oozed out of her like hot fudge running out of a fresh cookie. Their fingers are still linked and she doesn't seem to notice how he's rubbing circles into the back of her hand.

"What about me?" He inquired

"Huh?"

"You didn't mention me."

"Well, you…you…" She stuttered, struggling to get her words out, "you confuse me." She concluded.

"How?" the conversation simmered from a revealing confession to utter confusion on his part. She told him what's wrong, why she's sitting here, she has nowhere else to go. He knows why she's been skipping school and rehearsal. She feels alone and all he yearns for is to make her feel better. She's alone, all alone and it kills him to know he's been letting her feel like this. He wants to hurt himself , go back in time and notice her slow deterioration and be the one to stop it.

"I don't know, you mess with my feelings. Sometimes you're nice and… comforting and I'm having a hard time understanding because other times you're a jerk." She's distressed and it finally hits him that she feels like he's her enemy and he wants to scream out in rage and at the same time say over and over again, _"I love you, I love you."_

There was no eruption just the fizzing and bubbling of the lava and the people try to walk by and step around the scene, attempting not to touch the lava, afraid of getting burned.

Suddenly he stands up from the bench and starts pacing in front of her, taking two steps forward and three steps back.

"What are you doing?" She asked.

"I wanna take you somewhere." He says determinedly. He reaches out for her to take his hand. Their cold frost bit hands and like sand paper rubbing against each other. She stands up hesitantly and wobbles back and forth on her unused fallen asleep legs. His firm grasp on her hand keeps her steady as they start to walk casually down the street in the direction of his house.

"Where are we going?" she glances up at him. How did she get so lucky as to have such a nice enemy like him? She never wanted to admit that he was her friend because she didn't believe she was good enough for him. Honestly, he deserved so much better than to have two girls as best friends one of whom beats him up regularly. She's always been amazed at the end of the day when it came down to a real life situation he would still be there supporting her.

His brunette hair flutters with a blast of cold air and a shiver runs up her spine. He's about a foot taller than her, _"I bet it'd be warm with his arms around me." _She wonders aimlessly picturing them together walking down the street. She counts the cracks in the sidewalk like the number of reasons she's so screwed up and loses count around 65 when he finally answers her question.

"You'll see." He smirks slightly, raising his eyebrows playfully and watches her out of the corner of his eye. Her eyes flicker to his and they meet for half a second. He tried to gauge her reaction in that split-second time-lapse but she just continued walking at the same pace they've been walking at the whole time.

They continue to walk silently as the sun finally appears in the mid-afternoon sky. They promenade through a stream of people on their cellphones, no one looking up, seemingly being able to navigate themselves without running into anyone. They're like fish swimming up current in the wrong direction as no one tries to tell them that and decides to just let them figure it out on their own.

"This city's full of two things, people who don't care and rain." Sam says. Freddie chuckles and agrees. He's glad to see her spirits have lifted even a little bit, but he can't dive in head first, she's a damaged girl with scrapes on her arms and cement walls in her heart, he sees that now. However he can't forget the fact that he didn't see it sooner and he's willing himself to apologize to her the first chance he gets.

When the familiar building up ahead comes into focus there are about two to three possibilities of the places they could be going. He wouldn't take her to his apartment, because of his crazy mother; probably not Carly's, she wants to be alone (with him of course). They reach the elevator as he steps forward to press the shiny silver button with an arrow going up.

"I know where you're taking me." She says.

"Do you?" he replies, trying to be mysterious. She rolls her eyes as usual and things feel almost normal besides the lump in his throat and in the back of his mind knowing what he's about to do, the risk he's taking, he can almost smell the high stakes as every move he has is on the line.

She lets him lead her to their special place overlooking the world, so far yet so close to reality, a true paradise.

"The fire escape." He states as she takes a seat on the rusted stairs placing a hand on the red chipped railing, leaning over the city. He sighs and sits on the window ledge just close enough and runs a hand through his hair. This place always made both of them feel so calm, especially when they're feeling restless or reckless. It's funny though how they've only been out here once together, that first time. The essence helps them think. They claimed this place _"Ours"_ over four years ago and already so much has changed, either for better or for worse. But one thing never changed and that was the place they take refuge at, in the cold wintry frosty days and the blistering hot summer ones it was and always will be there. From the rusted, wobbly, unsafe railing to the crooked stairs and broken lock on the window this place has seen better days, but to them everything wrong with it is another memory, another resolved argument or pointless fight. It's another night at three in the morning running there just to think because she can't sleep.

"This is my favorite place," she said, "hands down." She added motioning with her hands.

"Me too, so I guess I don't have to remind you what happened here." He said, his lips lifting a little smiling.

She scoffed lightly, "Of course not." She said it like it was obvious, but really, how could she forget? All the while gazing straight ahead her hair blown in her face troublesomely, she predominantly shoved it behind her ear. He's been mentally preparing himself for the past ten minutes and freaking himself out for the past hour. _"just do it, just say what you feel." _he thinks assuringly, reciting what he's going to say in his brain over and over like a mantra. He watches her blonde curls twirl slightly with the wind as she watches the city lights far into the distance, watching the world keep spinning can seem condescending when you're on the ground but from up here it's easy to slip into power and rule the world from your throne upon a building upon a city upon a country upon a nation upon a universe.

"Do you think we could stay out here forever?" she expressed in a daze maybe not meaning to say it out loud but suddenly her blue eyes are pleading with him and he wants to give in and say "_yes!"_ because he really could stay out here forever with her until eternity.

"I wish." He answers then quickly realizes this is his chance.

"Hey, Sam?" he begins. She turns around and notices his fidgetiness and gives him her full attention. She clasped her hands together folding them in her lap, the universal sign that she was all ears.

"This place means so much to both of us. We shared our first kiss here. When you were telling me everything you felt and how nobody cares about you, it broke my heart. How can a beautiful girl not see all the people that love her?" He stopped and took in her expression, her look of _"so… what?"_

"Spencer and Carly love you, Spencer would be happy to have you as a roommate and even if Carly is going away next year I know you two will always keep in touch, you're best friends, you have too. But more importantly _I,_ Freddie Benson love you, and I'm so sorry for not showing it. I know I have no excuses for being a jerk to you and I feel awful but I want to make it up to you and I hope you can forgive me?" He asks rather than states. This is the big risk he's been riding on all day, the make it or break it moment. He's tense and his palms sweat as he waits for any sort of reaction. He just put himself out there and she can either throw him off this building for playing with her feelings or forgive him for his mistakes.

"What about you? You're going off to college next year. If you care so much why would you say all this to just leave?" She says bitterly, biting off his confidence in the process. She does have a good argument, what about next year? He was planning on going to MIT in Boston if he could get in (which of course he would). But maybe she could come with him and they could live out their fairytale ending romance there, but he had a feeling she would never go for that. He could stay in Seattle but would she let him give up his dream for her? Or maybe it doesn't matter and all that matters is right now and not worrying about next year, but the separation will be like hell, they might as well not do anything. His ship was sinking and it was sinking fast.

"I will do anything to be with you." He says defiantly and to be honest quite ignorantly.

"You cannot give up your dreams for me, I know you want to go to MIT." She answered as expected. _"Was she really paying attention when I was talking about going to MIT?"_ he thinks, surprised.

"What if you got accepted into a school in Boston?"

"I'm not going to follow you there, plus do you really think I could get accepted to a legit school?" she counters

"Yes of course! You can do anything you set your mind too. I'll help you get your grades up." He argues. _"Why is she fighting against him so hard?"_

"It's too late." She says in minute defeat.

"Ok. But can I ask you one thing?" She nods and urges him to continue.

"Do you love me?" he asked looking her dead in the eye. There was no escaping this one and wow was she not expecting it.

"uh…"

"Answer the question. Do you love me?" He repeats

"Yes." she answered with a small voice, not knowing where he's going with this.

"Then what's the problem? I want to be with you and you want to be with me." He says frustratedly.

"I don't want to be with you." She forced out of her dryer than a desert throat. The hardest words that she's ever had to say and his face didn't falter one bit. Did he not care? No, he just knew she was lying, lying right through her teeth to protect herself (and him). He was mad now, all he wanted was to be with her and she was making things too difficult. So he did what was necessary and put his hands on her cheeks and pulled her in for a long passionate kiss, one filled with anger and rage and longing and love. He needed to show her somehow that if they were together they could persevere through anything, good times and bad. Hadn't they already been through enough together? Saying he caught her off guard would be an understatement because she could hardly breath and she could feel the heat rising in her body, their bodies together. Finally kissing him again and its pure bliss. She knew he knew she was lying, it was obvious she was in love with him. It surprised her that he didn't catch on sooner. He finally released her and took a step back at the same time. Now looking at her face he knew they had a tough road ahead, but knowing that in advance is a hell of an advantage. He was positive he could get her even if it took all night, all year, or all his life. Because it's inevitable, life is inevitable and if you don't embrace it, you miss it, lose it or regret it.

"How about now?" he asks.

"Freddie…" She sighs. It's never going to end, he'll just keep pushing and persisting until there's nothing left but he know that if he doesn't he'll lose her because it's easy to win a war when the other side gives up.

"No, Sam. I will not give up. I will not give up on you. Why are you making this so difficult?" He replied.

"Because I'm scared! I'm scared because I love you and I'm trying so hard to protect us but you just keep making it harder." She yells as tears are spilling out of her eyes.

"No, please don't cry." He says reaching out to grab her hand but she just slaps him away.

"I'm sorry, I never wanted to be the one to make you cry." He says. She walks over and sits back on the stairs and leans her head on the railing. She never wanted this to be a hostile place. This was their special place; she didn't want to ruin it by crying and yelling. He sits next to her and she doesn't protest but instead moves her head to lean against his shoulder rather than that rusted metal bar that would leave a line on her forehead. He begins to meticulously run his fingers through her soft hair, she can feel the stress and anger running out of her with each stroke of his hand.

"I never wanted to fight you." She stated, sort of apologetically.

"It's ok. I think it's the lack of sleep talking." he answered simply.

She yawns and says, "Oh yeah I forgot we haven't slept in like twenty-four hours." He yawns and nods along, his head drooping slightly.

"Do you want to go inside?" he asks.

"Is your mom home?"

"She shouldn't be." He answers.

"let's go." She says hopping up, grabbing his hand and pulling him through the window. It completely amazes him how they can just stop in the middle of an argument and be totally normal. They have to be the world's most unlikely and most strange pair.

"We can talk about this in the 'morning'. K?" She says as she pulls him towards his apartment. H was stunned but nothing could save them from the conversation they were eventually going to have to have, and she knows he's going to be persistent so she'll have to be as well.

The whispers of the wind spread rumors throughout the city, even into dark alleys and gloomy stairwells. The singing of her fears is louder than ever and its ringing high pitched in her ears but it doesn't menace her and chew away at her brain, it's just there, because you can never erase your fears, but you _can _overcome them. She has confidence, strength and possibility. Possibility that they will be something, somewhere, and somehow. Her old thoughts surround the bench and leave a permanent mark that she was there. A part of her was lost but a better part was just being found.

_The hum of a thousand cars don't know what just happened but Freddie Benson saved a life._

**A/N: Should I continue? Leave a comment/review! I'd really like to have your feedback. thanks:)**_  
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